Odd One Out
by Ophie
Summary: This is a Ginny fic, because I think Ginny is cool. And because i've never written a Ginny fic before. Maybe some Harry/Ginny or Draco/Ginny.*snickers* better read and find out, this one's short, more depending on reviews!
1. In which I get attacked

"School starts in three days, children. We have to go to get your supplies." 

I sighed. It was the third time mum had said this, and it was becoming irritating. Of course, I could see why she felt she had to repeat herself. What with Fred and George laughing loudly, Percy talking to himself in low tones about some or other report, Ron and Harry discussing brooms, and me, who had been, up until that point, singing several verses of a Muggle commercial. Dad wasn't there, he had left very early for work. He hates shopping with us, I can tell.

"Ginny, you need new robes dear. And Ron, you need new dress robes. Honestly, you really out grew those old ones fast enough." The memory of Ron's old robes was enough to bring on a sudden wave of laughter. Ron glared at me. He hated wearing those robes, and I made fun of him quite a bit for it too. He deserved it, what with teasing me about Harry and all.

"We'll use Floo Powder again." Mum said, for the third time. 

"First Ron, then Harry, then Ginny, then me." She had only said this twice, it looked like we might actually get something done.

"Alright, lets move. Now!" she hadn't even said this yet, which meant that we would end up arriving at our destination some time today.

She ushered us to the fire place, and I watched first Ron, then Harry disappear. Then I threw in the powder, and said "Diagon Alley" I was whisked away, eyes shut tight, arms pressed against my sides. I landed, sitting on my behind. How graceful. I was sure to impress Harry loads with all the charm I had. I opened my eyes, and saw a hand, extended just inside my line of view. I hope it was Harry's, as I grasped it, allowing it's owner to pull me up. It was not Harry's. The hand belonged to my older brother. I glared at him as he helped me to my feet, and he grinned at me.

Mum had just appeared, and she was waiting for us some feet ahead. I ran to catch up to her, knowing she would yell if I lagged behind. We went to Gringotts first. Then Madame Malkins Robes for All Occasions, then Flourish and Blotts. Finally, after much debating, she said I could look around by myself, if I was very careful, and didn't talk to anyone strange, or go into dark alleys or do anything stupid. I am 15 and she acts like I am still in diapers. I'll bet she does the same when I am 30. I had some money I'd saved up from Christmas and my birthday, and I really wanted a pet. Any pet, but a decent pet that was mine, and hadn't been anyone else's by the store owners. I took off running for the pet shop, and entered, smiling happily. I could just imagine myself getting a fine owl- maybe they would have a sale. Or a sleek beautiful cat. I walked inside, and was hit with the smell of animals. Some sections were warm and musty, while others were cool and clammy. There were little animal sounds floating all around me, soft chirps, squawks, mice digging in their cages, owls preening their feathers. I slowly made my way to the counter, and was looking around when I felt something touch my hand. I looked down slowly and saw a small black cat biting my finger. I yelped, and tried to shake it off. But wouldn't you know, the stupid little thing wouldn't come off. The witch behind the counter heard my protests, and came to my aid. But she couldn't get he cat to let go either.

"Well, dear, we can try some curses" she said, taking out her wand "Or, you can buy him." This put me in a bad mood, and I went off on some muttered rant about it all being a ploy to get me to buy the mangy feline. But I paid all of my money- 3 galleons, for the cat and a bag of food, and left the store. The minute I was five steps away from the store, the little thing detached itself from my hand, and jumped to the ground. I grabbed it by the scruff of the neck, and held it at eyes length. The thing looked straight into my eyes, and licked it's chops. I made a face at it, and brought it cautiously towards me, until it rested against my chest. Then I went to meet mum, Ron and Harry.

When my loveable big brother saw the thing, he laughed "What's that, Gin?" he asked, trying to grab it away from me. The things hissed at him, and swiped a paw full of claws at his face. Ron didn't try to touch it again, and my love for the cat, which had been no more than an iota, increased a little. At least it had good taste.


	2. In which I have a bad day

The last few days of vacation passed quickly, and nothing spectacular happened

A/N Sorry this took so long, and thanks to everyone who reviewed. Really. J 

The last few days of vacation passed quickly, and nothing spectacular happened. I mean, Fred and George played some rather interesting pranks, but I've come to expect that of them, and it's not out of the ordinary for me to wake up to green hair or the grotesque but familiar smell of dungbombs. I guess they're like a disease; after you've been around them long enough, you become immune. Or you die. I think I prefer the former.

The night before we left, mum came in to remind me that I hadn't yet given her my prefects badge to be sewn onto my robes. Yes, that year I was to join the "proud" legion of The Prefects, an honor held by almost everyone in my family. And we all know the two exceptions to the rule. I told her that I'd sew it on myself, and she looked skeptical, but after much cajoling, she gave in and left me alone. I undressed quickly, and got into my nightgown. Hermione would be upstairs at any moment and I didn't really feel like talking to anyone. I heard footsteps coming upstairs, and made a running leap for the bed. Unluckily for me, my bed is complete rubbish, and, as I landed every so gracefully upon the mattress, a large cracking sound erupted from the wooden frame, and I found myself considerably closer to the floor. The door opened and I saw the worried faces of Ron, Harry and Hermione staring in at me. I glared back at them, feeling rather embarrassed by my predicament. And possibly by the fact that I would need some assistance getting to my feet.

"Help?" I said, not intending to say only one word. A witty comment had been on the tip of my tongue, but somewhere between leaping off of my tongue and jumping out of my mouth, it had gotten lost.

"Oh Ginny, are you alright?" Hermione asked, walking swiftly over to me and grabbing both of my hands in an attempt to pull me up. I nodded, trying to make sure my nightgown didn't snag on anything as I stood up.

"Bed." I said, again not being able to utter more than one word. Mentally, I cursed myself, wondering about my sudden condition.

"It's easy enough to fix." Hermione said, then a look of frustration crossed her face. "But we can't fix it. No magic until tomorrow, when term starts." 

I groaned. Calling mum up to fix the bed, and explaining to her how I had broken it (doing something that she had told me not to do) did not seem like the ideal solution to my problems. Maybe I could get Fred and George to do it. They had graduated, and if Hermione told them the spell. Finding my voice I spoke "Maybe Fred or George could do it."

Harry nodded, and for a moment I felt a triumphant pang- he'd agreed with me. Then I mentally kicked myself around. I was over that rather immature stage in my teenage development. 

"I'll go get them." Ron said, leaving the room quickly. I stood, looking at the giant sagging spot in my bed; really, the whole thing seemed to have cracked in half. I suppose it had it coming, though. I don't weigh that much, but I've been leaping onto my bed since I was five. The mattress had a delightful springy effect that sent me several inches into the air.

"Ummm…" I said, more to myself than to anyone in the room. Harry made me feel uncomfortable, and, to be perfectly honest, Hermione seemed a little formidable, somewhat like my mum, or Professor McGonagall, a stern dissaproving look on her face.

"How did it break, Ginny?" she asked, reminding me even more of mum.

"I jumped on it." I answered truthfully. It seemed pointless to deny what I had done, I was a terrible liar.

"I see." Hermione pursed her lips. At first, I thought she was angry, but then I realized that she was trying not to laugh at me. In fact, a brief inspection of Harry's features revealed that the same struggle was occurring with him. I frowned. If I dislike anything, it is being laughed at. I am not the joker my brothers are, I rarely do things to be humorous, because, being the little sister of Fred and George, everyone has heard/seen everything before, and if I have learnt one thing from any acting experiences I may have had, it is that people do not like repeat performances.

"Well go ahead and laugh if you have to, but don't hide it if you think it's going to make me mad!" I snapped, my mind coming to me for once.

"We're not trying to laugh at you Ginny." Hermione said, a giggle escaping her lips.

"Besides, your already mad, aren't you?" Harry asked. It amazed me that he knew. I am quite good at keeping my emotions under control.

"Hardly." I replied, as Ron returned with both of my brothers (as a pair, they are worse. One is tolerable, two are quite a lot to deal with)

"Ginny, Ginny, Ginny" George said, smiling at me as he shook his head "What did you go and break now?"

"Isn't it obvious George?" I demanded, sweeping my hand in the direction of the broken bed.

"Sorry. It's easy to fix, Ginny dear. " Fred said, smiling maliciously, his expression clearly stated 'But what will you give us if we do it?' Before he could ask the question, I fished out an unopened bag of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans that I had been saving, and held it out, if not somewhat reluctantly.

"Alright then, Hermione, what's the charm?" asked my easily charmed brother. Hermione told him, and in no time, my bed was nicely fixed. I sighed, and climbed beneath the covers, pulling them over my head. 

"Goodnight Hermione."

"Nigh Ron, Harry."

"Night. G'night Fred and George."

"Yeah, night."

Where had all the goodnight Ginny's gone to? I wondered as I drifted off to sleep. 

Oh how I hate train rides. Most other years, I'd been kicked out of the compartment my older brother and his friends shared. But, thankfully, that year they let me stay. I sat quietly on one of the seats, playing with my stupid cat's tail, and wondering where my friends were.

"Have you named it yet?" Ron demanded, breaking my concentration.

"No." I said peevishly.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Harry asked. I shrugged.

"You mean you didn't ask, didn't check." Ron demanded me, looking incredulous.

"May I remind you that when I bought it it was attached to my finger, and that my cat happens to like its privacy." I hissed at him.

"I'll check then, if your so scared to." Ron told me, reaching for my cat. I smirked, and handed it over. As Ron held up my cat, the door to our compartment slid open, distracting everyone except my brother, who quickly checked, and handed it back to me. I let the smile melt from my face, it would have been fun to watch my brother battle with my cat. The two people who entered the compartment were the long lost friends whose absence I had been lamenting. Harvey (who went by Harvey and nothing else.) and Colin Creevey, who seemed to be having a hard time. He'd promised me no more picture taking of Harry, and it looked as if he was having problems restraining himself. Harvey plunked herself down beside me, and looked at my cat.

"Ugly cat." She said, grinning. I grinned back. Harvey was my best friend, and certainly odd. She had blonde-brown hair that stretched to just above her waist, and blue-gray eyes that were always wide and innocent when she was confronted with an accusation, but which sparkled with mirth any other time. I'll admit, my friendship with her came of the raging jealousy I had felt towards her in my first year. She was everything I had wanted to be, and it hadn't helped that Harry had cast a couple of appreciative looks her way. But after a rather violent fight with her (People really do get mad when you ruin their new dress robes) we became fast friends. We hadn't even fought since.

"Whats it's name?" asked Colin.

"It doesn't have a name." I replied

"Is it a boy or a girl?" asked Harvey, looking distastefully at It. I looked enquiringly at Ron.

"Boy." He said

"How about Caesar?" Harvey asked me. The cat sneezed, and I made a face as my hand became somewhat damper wondering how well cat saliva moisturized.

"No, not Caesar." I said, wiping my hand on the cats fur.

"Brutus?" Harvey said again. I looked at her.

"I was reading Julius Caesar this summer." She admitted. Earlier that year, we had discovered Shakespeare, a muggle writer, whose plays were quite good.

"How about Hermione?" I demanded, taking a cheap shot "I am sure that's what you'd name your cat Ronniekins" Needless to say, Ron didn't appreciated my dig

"How about Harry?" Ron teased. I felt my ears go red, and glared at my brother, as I contemplated throwing my nameless cat at his face. "Here Harry, come here Harry." Ron called to the cat. To my horror, it jumped off of my lap, and ran towards Ron.

"You idiot! I don't want his name to be Harry!" I yelled at my brother, who was grinning like an idiot.

"Looks like it is." Ron said. I frowned.

"Come here….Elton" I called, wriggling my fingers at my feline, which had attached itself to Ron's left shoe. The Cat gave me a disapproving look and issued a growl.

"Oh great, thank you Ron you flaming imbecile! I really wanted a cat named Harry!." I said, anger entering my voice.

"Oh Ginny, it's not so bad." Hermione said reasonably. I snorted. She was just defending Ron because she liked him, and because he was insufferable when he was angry. But I kept my opinions to myself, and grabbed Harry…the cat Harry…and tried to pry him off of my brothers foot.

The rest of the train ride was utterly boring. Harvey and I talked, and then Harvey and Harry and Ron talked about Quidditch, because they all belong to the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Colin disappeared, and then returned with Dennis, his brother, who I dislike immensely because he has a habit of following me around and telling me how smart and pretty I am. In my more immature days, I let him do it, hoping to make Harry jealous. But as I am way beyond that kind of childish behavior, I no longer appreciate it.

Finally we pulled into the station, and we all got out, and boarded carriages (in the pouring rain), me clutching my cat who had gone ballistic. I I think it rains every year just to spite me. I hate rain. Harry the cat was indifferent, which made me even angrier. Why does everything I own have to be so stuid? 


	3. In which I follow in Fred and George's r...

Hogwarts hadn't changed

Hogwarts hadn't changed. At least, as far as I could see it hadn't. There was probably some new trick that I would find when I was late for class and didn't need any distractions; some faulty stair, mean suit of armor, or evil picture to delay me. 

As we walked through the doors, and into the great hall, I realized that I didn't really feel excited about the coming year. In fact, I felt rather apprehensive. I had no idea why, and, as I tend to dwell on things, I tried to let it slide off. But I just couldn't do it. Well, that's my mind for you. It just won't let me forget the unpleasant things.

We sat down in the great hall, Harvey and Colin on either side of me. I could feel the tension wavering off of Harvey; her little sister was going to be sorted today, and Harvey desperately wanted her to be in Gryffindor. 

My gaze wandered over the other house tables as I waited. The majority of the Ravenclaws seemed to be listening to Cho Chang, seeker for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team and object of Harry Potter's affection. I frowned slightly. I can't understand how one person can have so much charisma. I am surprised that she hasn't exploded, she's so chock full of it. 

The Hufflepuffs were talking amongst themselves, or staring dreamily into space. One had a book, the title of which was illegible. I stifled a yawn. Neither of these tables interested me very much. My gaze drifted over to the Slytherins. Now there was a table worthy of my attention, for several reasons. One being that the Slytherins and the Gryffindors hate each other with a vengeance, and it is very good to know one's enemy, and another reason is that they are the most interesting house, even more interesting than the Gryffindors. All of them, with potentially evil parents, living in a dorm that once inhabited He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, perhaps the majority of them were Death Eaters. Maybe they were plotting things against us as I watched them. I was thinking about this when one looked at me, right at me. I was, in truth, rather shocked. When you are imagining the horrible lives of other people, it is rather disconcerting when they look at you. It rather destroys the little story that you have created in your mind. The one glaring at me just happened to be my big brother Ron's "arch nemesis" (and I use this word only because it sounds so good) Draco Malfoy. I looked away quickly. First of all, Draco Malfoy frightens me a bit. And second of all, I didn't want him trying to get to Ron through me. Playing means tricks on your enemy's little sister sounds like something a Slytherin would do.

"Gin, wake up, the first years are coming!" Harvey hissed loudly, grabbing my arm in a death grip. A group of scared first years- all first years are scared at the sorting, no matter what they say afterward- shuffled into the hall. Since Harvey's last name was Aber, her little sister was the second called, directly after Aaron, Paul. When Aine (that's Harvey's little sister) went to sit down on the stool, she shot a nervous glance at Harvey, who gave her an encouraging smile. Aine sat on the stool for a full five minutes, with Harvey whispering to me "What the hell is the matter?" "Do you think she'll be in Gryffindor?" every few seconds. Finally, the hat shouted HUFFLEPUFF and the table broke into applause. Harvey gaped in disbelief while I had to quench a laugh. Obviously Aine was more of a dreamer than her tom-boyish sister.

The sorting and the meal were boring. Utterly, utterly boring. As we trooped up to the Gryffindor tower, I remembered that I had to say what the password was. I tried to push my way forward, but being as small as I am, I was pushed back repeatedly by other students. Finally, after someone had delivered a well aimed elbow into my ribs, I took a breath, and yelled "GET OUT OF MY WAY!" 

To my enormous surprise, students moved to clear a path for me, and I walked through to the portrait, face as red as my hair. I don't generally yell at anyone except my brothers. The password was Lions Hair, and as soon as I said it, the portrait swung open, and everyone poured inside. I went straight to my dormitory, with the bed that I could bounce on a million times without breaking, and fell asleep in my robes.

"Ginny Weasley! Wakey wakey! Rise and Shine!" One of my dorm mates, the insufferable Laura Penn, bounced upon my bed, smiling happily at me. Sometimes, I want to brain Laura with my alarm clock. I am surprised that Dumbledore's tolerance lectures don't include niceties towards ones hyperactive dorm mates. I "accidentally" sent a pillow flying into Laura's face as I stumbled out of bed and to my dresser. The only clean robes I had were rather old, but I threw them on, brushed my teeth and hair, and scampered off for breakfast with Laura.I couldn't find Harvey anywhere. As we sat down at the table, I noticed that Ron wasn't there. Harry and Hermione were. Feeling worried, I decided that best thing to do was go over and ask. Ask Hermione, that is. She's not so bad once you get used to her. And, of course, Ron thinks she's the absolute best.

"Hermione. Have you seen Ron?" I asked her quietly. 

"What Ginny? Sorry. No I have not seen your brother." Hermione replied huffily, and dug into her eggs. I winced. They must have gotten into a fight again. That would explain Ron's absence. He was probably sulking somewhere. I sighed, my brother can be a complete git, but sometimes I feel myself pitying him. He just isn't good with girls.

"Whatever he said, Hermione, I don't think he meant it." I said, and had to snort back laughter when I saw her face, because I knew I had hit the nail on the head, so to speak. Unfortunately, I didn't have long to enjoy it. Just then Ron stormed in, and I saw, to my amazement, that he was holding Harry the cat by the scruff of his neck. Harry the cat was hissing and spitting madly, and I saw that he had some feathers stuck to his head. I grimaced, thinking I knew why Ron was mad.

"GINNY!" Ron yelled, causing most of the students to look at him, then at me. I sighed. Embarrassment, it seemed, had not had it's fill of Ginny Weasley. I waited for Ron to storm over to me, and hand me Harry the Cat angrily. 

"Your bloody animal ate my owl!" he sputtered.

"That impossible, Harry's much smarter than that. Pig would give him indigestion." I growled. I am not fond of Ron's owl, affectionately called Pig. I used to think it was cute, until it ruined my 5 page charms essay. Now, I'd be rather glad if it met the business end of someone's wand. Preferably mine.

"Ginny! Hullo?" Ron waved his hand in front of my face. 

"Yes? What?" I snapped. Oh yeah, the owl. "Harry didn't eat your owl." I said.

"I should hope not." Harry chimed in, earning a dirty look from Ron.

"Harry has better sense than to eat Pig."

"I dunno, I rather like pork…" Harry said, trying to be funny. This time, I glared at him. People who try to be funny at unfunny moments annoy me. I am in a constant state of annoyance.

"Ron, I am sure Harry didn't eat Pig. He probably caught some other bird to devour. I am sure you'll find Pig in the owlry if you look. Have you looked, or did you just assume that he had been eaten?" I demanded.

Ron's face turned as red as his Weasley trademark hair, but he turned around and stormed off while I suppressed the urge to throw a croissant at his head. Stupid git.

"Ginny!" Harvey hollered, charging over in that charming way she has of moving; the way the makes people jump out of her path as swiftly as possible. Harvey is not an elegant person, which is another reason why I like her so much.

I grunted something around the wad of food I had stuffed in my mouth, and flashed Harvey an eggy grin.

"Ginny, that's gross. But guess what's worse?" Harvey said. I shrugged. Guessing where Harvey is concerned is fruitless.

"We have DOUBLE POTIONS first thing with the slime of the slime, the SLYTHERINS!" She shrieked loudly enough for everyone to hear. I glanced quickly over at the Slytherins. There was that "mortal enemy" of Ron's, glaring contemptuously at Harvey as if he could disintegrate her with one glare. Or undress her with his eyes. Ewwww. I'd have to tell Harvey. She'd probably kill me. Or worse, yell it out so everyone would know what I had been thinking. Besides, he had looked away, and I realized that I was staring. I quickly looked back at Harvey.

"…like wet start fireworks, or itching power-"

"Or just forgetting about doing anything on our first day back because neither of us wants to get detention." I cut in.

"Oh Ginner-"

"-don't call me that"

"-Ginner, come on! Live a little."

"My name's Ginny." I retorted, bouncing some toast off of Harvey's nose.

"Alright, _Ginny_ will you please do something to the Slytherins with me? For fun, for glory, for the hilarity of seeing those slimy slimebags-"

"Slimy slimebags, how original"

"Seeing those fantastic gits faces when we do something abnormally horrid to them would be the perfect start, don't you think, Ginner?" I gave up on trying to correct my name, and on trying to talk her out of it, and nodded.

"Grrrrrreat!" Harvey leapt up with unguarded enthusiasm, pulling me with her.

"Where are we going?" I asked, already knowing that my breakfast would go unfinished, as it had every first day of school since I had befriended Harvey.

"To the library Ginner, to get out that trusty ol' curse book!" she cried, sweeping me past the house tables and down to the library. I grabbed my cat on the way out, much to his protests to be left to the rest of my bacon.

In case your wondering the 'Trusty ol' Curse book' is a book that Harvey discovered in her first year, and shared with me after. The names of people who have taken it out are vastly outweighed by our names. We've each taken it out to use different curses on different people over the years. The most recent borrowing of this book was the year before, right before the end of year ball. We used it to curse little Dennis Creevy to grow a mustache when he wouldn't leave me alone. But the curse backfired, Dennis loved the mustache so much, he cried when it disappeared, and begged us to put a permeate one on him. That little boy is so strange, sometimes I wonder if there isn't something wrong with him.

We entered the library, and dragged the curse book off of one of the shelves. As we signed it out, Madame Pince shook her head. She knows what we use it for, I am quite sure. It's just she hates the Slytherins as much as we do, and she likes to see them suffer. Or she likes to watch Harvey and me get detention. One of the two.

"Look Ginny! This one looks good, and you should be able to memorize it quickly." Harvey said, pointing to one.

"Me?" I demanded, scanning the curse quickly.

"Yeah. I can't do it. McGonagall said if I get detention in the first week of school again she'll suspend me from going to Hogsmeade."

"But that means I get detention." I pouted, already knowing that, one way or another, Harvey would convince me to do it.

"Please Ginner! Pleeeeeeeease?" Harvey grabbed my arm, and smiled winningly. I sighed. "I knew you'd do it Ginner! Now, it won't take long to memorize, so hurry up, or we'll be late!" Harvey said, pushing the book to me. I sighed again, much louder this time, and bent over to memorize the curse. My first day back, and already, I was destined for detention. Things were looking vaguely interesting, even if I seemed to be following in Gred and Forge- I mean, Fred and George's titanic-sized footsteps. 

A/N has anyone ever heard the Switchblade Kittens 'Ode to Harry Potter'? It's "Ginny" singing about how much she likes Harry, and it's so cute! I love it!

About Titanic, I figured that Ginny would know about it…it was a pretty big disaster, was it not?

Any idea for this fic will be welcomed. I don't usually say it, but I am now. Also, if you think it's a good idea to a) switch POV's ex Ginny to Ron to Harry or b) stick to Ginny's POV


	4. 

We slipped into Potions class early, smiled sweetly at Professor Snape, and sat at the very back of the classroom

We slipped into Potions class early, smiled sweetly at Professor Snape, and sat at the very back of the classroom. He looked at us suspiciously, and I pretended to be really busy getting my parchment and quills out. Actually, I was very nervous. I am not as adept at playing tricks as my brothers, what if I failed? I'd be the laughing stock of my family. I couldn't return home, of course. I'd have to live in exile, far, far away from everyone. Mum would be simply distraught, her only daughter, failing at a prank. And a simple one at that, I'd probably have to turn myself invisible too, just to escape the shame, maybe… a ball of paper landed at my feet, and I picked it up, realizing that everyone was in the class room. The ball had Colin's untidy scrawl on it, and it read:

Ginny

Where did you and Harvey go to? Ron came back, and said that he couldn't find Pig, and he's going to kill Harry if he ate Pig. Why didn't you guys take me with you when you went? What are you planning to do?

-Colin

I looked at the letter with puzzlement. Ron was going to kill Harry, but that was his best- oh, yeah. My cat was called Harry. I grinned. Poor Colin, he always felt so left out when he was with me and Harvey. I'd have to remember to include him next time. I picked up my quill and wrote:

Colin,

Sorry for leaving, Harvey had an idea. Next time, you can help, I promise. Ron won't kill Harry, because then I'd kill him. Don't worry.

Ginny.

I sent it flying across the room, where it landed neatly in Colin's lap. Luckily, Professor Snape's back was turned, so he did not see the note flying through the air. Unfortunately, a certain Slytherin boy who I've fought with numerous times did. He sent me a glare so icy it could have frozen a fireball, and turned away. I frowned. Why was he acting so nasty right away? Usually, it took us at least a day to get into the being very mean stage of the year. The first day, I usually just ignored him, and vice versa. Harvey elbowed me.

"Now, while Snape's not looking!" she hissed. I yanked out my wand, pointed it right at that certain Slytherin boy's head, and said "Poematis Slytherins!" in a hoarse whisper. A silvery cloud appeared over the Slytherin's heads, and soon disintegrated upon them. I grinned.

"Listen up my scholars bright and young. The Potions lesson has begun. Take out your books, look sharp, it's time- wait a minute, am I speaking in rhyme?" Snape stopped, and almost put a hand to his mouth. Most of the Gryffindors were holding in laughter, and the Slytherins were gaping.

"Professor Snape, I do believe, the punishment by Gryffindor should be received. It's not our fault, Great Potions master, it must have been those Gryffindor bastar-" a particular nasty Slytherin cut him self off as he realized what he was going to say, and his pale skin turned slightly pink. 

Snape glared at us "I do not know which of you thought you were so brave and true that you were going to charm us to use sentences that rhyme. This is just a waste of time!" I couldn't help it, a large guffaw escaped from my lips, and I had to clamp my hands around my face to stop the rest from pouring out.

"Ahh Miss. Weasley, I think I see, who the culprit just might be. Please, if any of you know, tell me, or from Gryffindor 30 points will go!"

I met Colin's gaze, and he looked at me pleadingly. I looked at Harvey, then raised my hand. It had been worth it to see them talk in rhyme, and with no counter curse, they would be doing it for the rest of the day. Besides that, I couldn't loose 30 points on my first day back. That was insane.

"Professor Snape, it was me." I said, realizing that my voice sounded rather high pitched.

"So, Miss Weasley you must have thought, that you could make us what we are not. Slytherins have never rhymed. Reverse the curse, and do it right the first time." Snape said, glaring at me. Somehow, he seemed much more frightening when he was rhyming. Maybe it's the oddity of seeing a Slytherin actually being poetic. 

"Ummm, Professor, I can't reverse it. It's a 24 hour curse." I said, and felt like ducking as all of the Slytherins and Professor Snape glared at me like I was a piece of chewing gum stuck to the bottom of their rather large and smelly shoes. _Pink_ chewing gum, to be precise.

"So my brave little Gryffindor, now I remember why it's you I abhor. Three weeks detention for this crime. Watching you suffer will be sublime." Snape snarled at me, before turning to the class.

"Now that we've ended this foul transgression, shall we continue with the lesson?" he said, and began talking (in rhyme) about the potion.

"Ginny!" Harvey yelled as soon as we'd gotten out of the classroom "That was great! You didn't loose us any points, and you already have three weeks detention…on the first day!" she grinned, although somewhat enviously. Harvey is very serious about getting detentions. She wants to break the record, held by someone called Padfoot who attended several years ago and, by graduation, had served over 900 detentions.

"I know. Three weeks. He said he'd tell me when I had to go." I said, making a tragic face as we hurried to Divination. After that class (where Professor Trelawney told us all about how my brother and Harry Potter and Hermione would die, and encouraged us to do a special project on what the stars had to do with predicting one's death) we went to lunch. Then we had Herbology (where we fed raw liver to Snapping Pipers) and Transfiguration (we learnt how to change a raven into a writing desk) and finally the day was over, and we hurried to dinner. While I sat munching on some pork chops, an owl flew over to me, and dropped a letter in my lap. Opening it, I expected my detention notice, but instead, the writing was strange and foreign, drawn in red ink, and there was no signature. It read

Poetry is good and fun

But be watchful what you do

When the cleansing has begun

The first to die will be you

Watch out when you go around bends

For what is lurking there

Might help you meat your end

And Ginny Weasley beware

Of darkened rooms and corridors

For they hide your fate

To stop you heart with they're horrors

Remember before it's too late

Living in fear is not to be out-ruled

But living without fear makes you the fool

I glared down at the paper and hoped that this was a stupid prank from one of the Slytherins and not a real death threat. But who would be sending me a death threat? Suddenly, I heard someone mention my name, and when I looked up, I saw the grinning face of Ron.

"Ginny! How did you manage to make all of the Slytherins talk in rhyme? It's brilliant!" he exclaimed, grinning hugely.

I gulped "_All_ of the Slytherins. No, Ron, just the ones in 5th year."

"Oh no, they're _all_ talking in rhyme. I don't think you specified the spell, Ginny." Hermione said.

"Crap." I hissed, slapping my forehead. "Crap Crap Crap Crap-"

"Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed, interrupting my swearing session.

"What? Oh, the swearing. Sorry. But if you think about it, I've got a long peroid of curses and hexes ahead of me. And I think they're already trying to scare me." I said, indicating the letter I had received. Ron picked it up, and read it aloud. When he had finished, he looked pale, and Hermione shuddered. 

"Ginny, perhaps you should show this to Professor Dumbledore." She said. I snorted.

"It's just some Slytherin idiot trying to scare me, Hermione. Really, they wouldn't try to hurt me that much."

"I don't know, Ginny. Maybe you should take that letter a little more seriously." Harry said. I frowned. Couldn't they see that it was just some Slytherin with is head shoved up his rear end?

"Well, thank you oh great Harry Potter, I am so glad you were willing to give humble Ginny Weasley your profound advice." I said, finding my voice after a rather long pause "However, I don't think that this is anything else but a insipid prank from an dull Slytherin who's angry that I played a joke on them. So piss off!" I got up from the table to march upstairs to my dorm. Getting there, I realized that I'd forgotten the letter. _Well, sod it._ I thought angrily _ Let Ron take care of it._

A/N Oooooh…a mysterious letter! Sorry this is so cliché, but my other idea went down the toilet once I realized it wouldn't work. But maybe the letter is just a trick, eh?

Could someone other than two people answer my question in chapter 3? Please? Because both people picked different answers, and that leaves it tied. Thanks you J 

Disclaimer: I own Harvey and Harry. Harry the cat, that is. Oh, and the letter, and the Poetry spell, and possibly the lambchops although I suppose they belong to the house elves, who made them, and, in any case, I don't want them. Everything else is ©JK Rowling 


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